Enter Stuntman
There existed a certain baseline to Kyoto's clamor during the day, where the passing mumble of a hundred different conversations blended with the whine of construction and beeping of car horns. Add in the intermittent fuzz of the police radio, and Akio Ishida was pretty confident that this was going to be the soundtrack to the rest of his first shift as a Kyoto police officer. So far, the hardest thing he had to do was find a place to park his squad car amidst the Saturday shopping rush. As the powder-blue morning turned into the afternoon, he took the last sip of a can of soda, tilting his head back in an attempt to harvest every last drop of lemon-lime happiness.
If today keeps going as well as it has, I'm fine being a policeman for the rest of my life.
How wrong he was. Strolling by a neon-lit pachinko parlor, he heard a faint crash and a smattering of surprised gasps from a crowd in the distance.
Ah shit. It's a block or two away. I had better check it out.
Picking up the pace, he broke into a light jog as his radio went off.
"We have a 211 at the Aeon Mall Kumiyama. Suspect should be considered dangerous. Any available units, please respond."
Akio could feel his chest growing tighter with anxiety as he ran closer to the source of the noise. He'd only been an active-duty officer for a few hours, and now dispatch was asking him to respond to a robbery? He reached for the holster on his duty belt, firmly tugging the cover open as he leaned into the radio on his left shoulder.
"10-4, dispatch, this is Patrol 5 responding on foot, requesting backup!"
He barely had time to turn away from his radio to look up and see a 7-foot tall man that looked more crocodile than human barreling towards him at top speed, bills fluttering out of a plastic shopping bag he held to his chest like a football. As the suspect drew closer, he body-checked a surprised clump of pedestrians aside. Akio's hand once again darted for his pistol as the tightness in his chest grew more acute.
"Kyoto police, freeze!"
The hulking robber, finally taking notice of the lone police officer, cocked his burly arm back as he began to run even faster. He wasn't going back to jail, and if he could take out this one cop quickly before backup arrived, he'd be home free. A reiterated command failed to stop the crocodile in his tracks as he finally closed the gap with the novice policeman, whose finger slipped down onto the trigger just as the suspect's haymaker bore down on him.
Recommended Listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYB-D9qEwzI
Suddenly, Akio was gently pushed backwards, dropping his gun on the ground as a silvery glove caught the punch mid-flight. The yellow-suited man that stepped in between the two looked a bit like a crash test dummy in his costume. So distracted by this was Akio that he was caught off guard when the crash dummy glanced back at him, pausing before speaking as if to pick out the words he was going to say.
"Are you alright?"
Exhaling raggedly as he reholstered his service pistol, Akio could only stammer out an exasperated "Y-Yeah.." to his protector, whose other hand curled into a fist upon hearing the police officer's words.
This guy has a pretty strong accent. Is he a foreigner?
"Nice. Prepare yourself, Floor, I'm sending him your way!"
Akio could feel the impact as the yellow-suited man fired a right cross squarely into the robber's chest. The sheer force of the punch sent the crocodile flying down the sidewalk, his bag exploding in a shower of 1-and-5000-yen bills as he careened back towards the mall. Turning around, the hero offered a hand up to Akio. After being pulled to his feet, Akio managed to get a good look at his savior.
Definitely a foreigner, he's way too tall to be Japanese. And he has to be a pro hero if he can punch like that. What's a foreign pro like him doing in Japan?
Once again his thoughts were interrupted as the hero briefly brushed off Akio's duty shirt, smiling as he crouched into a four-point stance. As he pushed off towards his quarry, Akio was buffeted by a strong gust of wind that knocked off his hat.
Akio's Quirk wasn't as flashy as some of his buddies on the force, but in his eyes it was every bit as useful. Taking a deep breath, he focused his attention towards the mall, feeling his pupils dilate as his vision zoomed in. He couldn't help but smile when he saw the suspect that almost cleaned his clock stuck in between the pro and who Akio could only assume was his sidekick.
"Five-Meter Standing Room!"
Junpei Ozu, or Floor as he was known to the public, had been taught to project his voice in the academy. Having signature moves was supposed to help with branding, his teacher had said. Seeing the crocodile soaring towards him, closely followed by his boss, he pivoted his back foot around, entering a well-practiced Thai boxing stance. If he knew Impakt, which he admittedly didn't feel like he did even after countless hours of training together, he was probably going to try out that move.
"KNIEVEL..."
The crocodile slammed into the asphalt first, briefly rolling before coming to a halt. He barely regained his footing when Impakt drop-kicked him, knocking him flat on the ground with an audible thump. Junpei swore that for a split second before losing consciousness, he saw the robber's eyes go wide as he realized he couldn't move his feet.
"...ABSPRUNG!"
It wasn't that move. Damn, now that's how you project.
Now firmly within the radius of his sidekick's Quirk, Impakt performed a kick-up, letting out a "wha-ta!" as he hopped to his feet. Junpei chuckled at the flashy move and theatrics. Sometimes his boss acted like he was in an old kung-fu movie. After Junpei released his Quirk, Impakt knelt down besides the unconscious would-be robber, checking his vital signs before turning to his sidekick.
"Amazing work as usual, Floor! Go get that...ah, Scheiße, wie sagt man das auf japanisch, kei...policeman! Yes, that's it. Go get that policeman over there, the..one I saved. I'll stay here until we put the capture gear around him."
Junpei'd caught his boss studying Japanese into the early hours of the morning before, and his hard work seemed to be paying off. Much was said on social media about his insane workout routine, but Junpei admired the fact that his boss' work ethic extended to everything else he did; it was why he'd specifically applied to his agency. The sidekick smiled, thinking back to a few weeks ago, when Impakt could barely string together a sentence.
"You got it, Impakt-senpai!"
Recommended Listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJfAnFBZG6Q
In a past life, the buildings that comprised Kraftwerk Hero Agency were a humble corporate office and an industrial warehouse. Certain corners of the agency still displayed reminders of that humble past, despite a series of ultra-modern renovations that included bombproofing the warehouse and almost completely redesigning the office. To Ernst, the most garish example of was the lumbering beast of a copier the agency had won in the auction for the building. Words couldn't describe how much he hated that thing, and yet it still taunted him every time he had to go to the meeting room, alongside those ugly plastic office plants. Kraftwerk Hero Agency specifically asked for an industrial look, but not like that.
Sliding open the glass door, Ernst stepped into the meeting room. Toward the other end of the sleek conference table sat Joachim, his agent, and a TV producer by the name of Hanma. To his left sat his sidekick-already through the showers, if only he'd been so lucky. He barely had time to put his suit in the wash after coming back from stopping a suicide attempt.
Hana. That was the girl's name. She'd lost family to a villain attack recently, and I'd be lying if I say I didn't try doing what she was about to do when Dad died. But she didn't have people like Renaud or Asphalt in her life. What if I hadn't been there? What i-
"Herr Hennig?"
The sudden jolt to his senses made him blink, gently shaking his head to clear out the negative fog. Dealing with it never got easier.
"Er-ah, yes? Forgive me, I zoned out."
Joachim foisted a reassuring hand, speaking in English in order to be intelligible to everyone present. Mostly everyone, that is. Junpei's command of the language extended to "bruh", something that often earned a good-natured laugh around the office.
"No worries. Please, take a seat. We've been expecting you, and I think you'll like what we have to show you."
Flopping into a nearby office chair, Ernst shrugged, pushing a strand of blond hair out of the way of his eye.
"I'm excited. Let's see what you've got."
Reaching for the remote, Joachim gestured towards the television in the boardroom, and four chairs swiveled in near-unison to be met by a brightly-colored intro card reading "SUPER Warrior of Happiness LocaLoca!" A second press of the remote, and the entire boardroom was filled with the bright, citypop-inspired theme tune, with none other than LocaLoca herself on vocals. Out of the corner of his eye, Ernst saw Junpei, his badass sidekick, bobbing his head in time.
After the intro faded to black, the show opened with LocaLoca in plainclothes walking home from somewhere when she noticed a monster dumping trash into the river. The rest of the show followed a fairly predictable formula. The monster turned into a kaiju after being beaten, LocaLoca had to activate Battle Kaeru to defeat it, and there was a nice moral lesson at the end delivered in song. Fortunately for Ernst, the dialogue was in very simple Japanese aimed at kids, so he didn't have to do a lot of the guesswork he did while in the field. Reminding himself to sit down and study when he got home tonight, he looked over at Joachim, face bearing the slight smirk that comes part and parcel with an amused curiosity.
"What a fun kid's show! I'm pretty sure I've seen this in passing, though. Why did you want to show me this?"
His agent perked up, as though he was a sleeper agent who'd heard a trigger phrase. Clearly, he'd been practicing the best way to pitch his idea for a while, and without another thought, he launched into it with all the confidence of a veteran of the heroics industry.
"Well, LocaLoca's show is incredibly popular amongst 6-10 year olds, as well as their parents and single men aged 26 to 33. You tend to market well with the 18-25 demographic, so an appearance on her show would be an excellent opportunity to broaden your reach, especially since you're still finding your footing in Japan. I mean, that's why you hired your sidekick, isn't it?"
Ernst's expression visibly changed from amusement to indignance, and he shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with Joachim's dismissive words. He switched to German in order to avoid offending the Japanese at the table. He needed to address this discretely, even if discreet wasn't usually his style.
"Excuse me, what?"
"Oh, uh, I thought we were under the agreement you were gonna take on a Japanese sidekick to bost your brand recognition in Ja-"
Joachim's eyes widened ever so slightly in shock, realizing the line he'd just crossed. If looks could kill, Ernst's face should've been tried at the Hague.
"Agreement? Where? I didn't hire Junpei just because he was Japanese and I wanted a TV deal, alright? Maybe that's what you thought, with-with your market research and all that crap. No, I hired Junpei because he's still a hero when the cameras aren't rolling, when he isn't making money, Joachim, which seems to be all you-"
Now it was Impakt's turn to realize he'd crossed a line. He owed his position just outside of the top 10 European heroes to his agent, even if he had hangups about some of the things Joachim booked. The swimsuit calendar shoot was still pretty fresh in his mind, after all. Taking a deep breath, he switched back to English, doing his best to remain tactful.
"I'm sorry, Joachim, but I won't tolerate disrespect towards my sidekick, no matter how small. It's not what a hero should do."
His agent nodded his head, letting out a sigh of relief as Ernst stood up, clapped his hands, and adressed the room in accented Japanese.
"I'll need some time to think about it. In the meantime, Junpei, feel free to fill everyone in on your heroics today. I need to go clean myself up. Thank you for your time, Hanma-san."
With that, he gently bowed towards the TV producer, who returned the gesture as Ernst took his leave.
Walking past the printer, he found he was unable to get his mind off that girl standing on the roof, all alone save for him. The more he thought about it, the more it became an unscratchable itch gnawing on his conscience. Maybe a late patrol wasn't such a bad idea, being a hero always took the edge off. He could even go to the night market and try some of that yakisoba Junpei had talked him into checking out. For now, though, it was time to hit the showers. Maybe his Stuntman costume was clean.
Recommended Listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9PD2Q7TXmvU
The sun had almost finished departing Kyoto, painting the sky the color of ripe strawberries as the long shadows cast by its rays began to melt into a profound darkness. Even though the sun hadn't finished setting, it seemed as though the city had loosened its tie and unbuttoned its shirt. All across Kyoto, bars and cabaret clubs were slowly being filled up, and in one corner of the city, three high school boys tucked into piping hot bowls of miso ramen, surrounded by the emerging clamor of a night market. The tallest boy of the three, emanating a faint glow from his body, looked over at Hifumi Takeda with an incredulous grin.
"You gotta be fucking with me, dude. You're gonna seriously tell me you wouldn't date Honoken if she was into you?"
"No way, Bobby. I alre...she's just not my type, you feel me?"
"Nah, nah, you're lying. I know for a fact you would, Hifumi. You saw how she looked in her fight against Gosuke Killah. Don't even tell me she wasn't hotter'n a-"
"Nope, still wouldn't. I dunno, I like-"
"Whatever, man, keep telling yourself that."
Inigo Moga, sensing a lull in the conversation, edged his way in. The normally talkative boy had been rather quiet at the table, choosing instead to focus on his ramen. Occasionally, he'd lift up a thick slice of chashu pork, tossing it in the air to feed to the green dragon curled around his side. The dragon snapped it up with gusto, lifting its head up to gulp it down. Gigan's really acting up today, Inigo thought to himself.
"Speaking of fights, you excited for the provisional exams?"
At the mention of the provisional license exams, Bobby began to glow slightly brighter, a faint twinkle in his eye as the last of the rapidly dying sunlight flowed into his arm. The American pumped his fist in excitement.
"Aw, hells yea, bro! Kinda hyped to see how our new classmate does too. Y'know, the one with the guns and bad attitude."
Hifumi scoffed, biting into his soft-boiled egg as he swatted away Gigan, who had been eyeing Hifumi's bowl the moment it had been placed down in front of him. The dragon recoiled like a recalcitrant dog who'd just had air blown on his nose, and Bobby stifled a laugh as the construct slinked back to Inigo's side.
"Tch. She shoots me in a dream, she better wake up and apologize."
"Hey, at least she isn't ugly."
"C'mon, Inigo, even you're better than that. She's been nice to me so far."
"Yeah, 'cause you're American, bro. She hates us Japanese."
"Why'd she come to Japan then?"
"No clue, man. Hang on, I think I'm getting a call."
As Hifumi reached into his backpack hung on the seat, he caught a glimpse of none other than Impakt, outfitted in what looked like blue racing coveralls emblazoned with several smaller versions of the roundel on the front of his normal costume. And was that a motorcycle helmet in his hands? He seemed like was preoccupied with the menu of a nearby yakisoba stall, but it'd still be rude to stare. Turning back to his ramen, Hifumi's eyes shifted conspiratorially as he pulled his friends into a huddle. A surprised Inigo dropped the bamboo shoot he'd picked up with his chopsticks straight back into the broth with a light plap.
"Guys, guys, check it out."
"What? What is it?"
"Just look behind you, Bobby."
Bobby whipped his head around, staring intensely as he picked through the crowd. Grabbing him, Hifumi turned the American around, afraid the foreigner's carelessness would blow their cover and make them look totally uncool in front of a pro.
"Not like that, ya idiot!" Hifumi hissed, shaking him vigorously.
Gigan leaned into the huddle, mimicking the gestures of the three boys as best he could.
"That's Impakt. Right behind us, that's him."
Inigo turned to Hifumi, a quizzical expression on his face.
"Impakt...Impakt. Remind me who he is?"
"The hero Weiss is obsessed with."
"The senior? That's who she likes?"
"Yeah, I heard she's got a weird calendar of him in her locker."
"I heard the same thing, bro. We should get a picture with him."
As if on cue, the boys shared a sly grin, three minds united as one. With theatrical flourish, Hifumi slapped a few crinkled bills onto the table before tilting the bowl to extract the last few scraps of ramen.
Ernst had a rule about going out to eat, one cultivated back home in Germany, where unhealthy food lay in abundance from sausage to schnitzel. Only eat out once a week, and once a weekend. With the amount of oil the chef in front of him was putting into the wok, it seemed like that rule would have to apply to Japan as well. He trusted his sidekick enough to believe Junpei hadn't led him astray with his recommendation.
"One yakisoba, please."
"Impakt-san?"
That voice was a high schooler's, wasn't it? Well, at least my fans here aren't like some of the ones back home.
Impakt smiled as he greeted the three boys, placing his fists on his hips.
"Hello there, young heroes, it's nice to meet you! Care for some yakisoba? My treat."
What was with foreigners and being so forward? Bobby was the first one done with his ramen, yet still hungry, he nodded. Inigo shot the American a worried stare. There's no way he could still be hungry, he ordered the extra large, right? RIGHT?
"We're all good on food, we just ate, see, but we have a request. We go to school with a girl from Germany, and she's a really big fan of yours. Would you mind sending her a video message? She has this calendar of you, and so maybe you could, y'know, bring that up."
Parsing through the sentence was tricky, especially because it was delivered so quickly. Upon asking the Japanese boy with the dragon to repeat it slower, he finally understood, blood turning to ice at the mention of the calendar. So far today, Impakt had been 0 for 2 on requests.
Recommended Listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bpvbnpi83NU
Drekus awoke to the sight of a doctor perched on the lid of the dumpster he'd been sleeping in. No, not a doctor, a demon, a monster in human skin wearing a labcoat. In earlier days, it had tried to conceal its true nature, putting on different faces. Sometimes it was the tall orderly who did the rounds at night, or one of the many psychologists called in to analyze his mind. Each time, a new mask would appear, only to change with the next visit. Sometimes, an old face would resurface, its appearance ever so slightly different. Drekus could hardly remember the number of sketchbooks he'd filled with the faces, attempting to discern imperceptible changes.
You are a monster. You are a killer. You are hatredyouaredeath. Die!
Those days had long since past. Since his arrival in Japan, it began to toy with him. His mother's face, made of melting wax. The laser hero from the advertisements, his eyes being eaten by yellowed clumps of writhing maggots. Today, it wore no mask, the exposed musculature of its face bleeding deep crimson into the labcoat as it inspected him, pricked his veins with needles, tore his limbs apart with bonesaws. No matter the face, the demon always wore the labcoat, always used the voice of the doctor that had cut him apart and put him back together all those years ago. Clutching his head in agony, he could hear the faint screams of his other personalities as they struggled unsuccessfully to drive the shape out.
getout. getout. Get out, you can do this. you got this. Ya got the heart of a Texan.
"Hey, it's him again. This is private property, you can't sleep here!"
Was it real? Was the demon continuing to have its fun? The cacophony in his mind felt as though his head was being fed slowly into a meat grinder, and Drekus uttered a throaty growl as he rose to his feet, turning his hulking frame towards the voice. A security guard, maybe on smoke break. No, two, three. Would they arrest Drekus?
Hurt him. Break him.
"You even listening to me, freak? I said...oh, oh shit."
Without thinking, Drekus grabbed the man by his windpipe, crushing it with only one hand. For a brief moment, he heard an inhuman laugh. As he held the lifeless body in his hands, though, Elle's voice returned. Drekus' mind wandered back to the small bowl of miso soup she had brought him on that rainy day. No one had treated him with such kindness, and now she was gone.
*Where was she? this isn't right. She was dead, that robber had killed herYOU KILLED HER. Killer!"
"You're going down, psycho!"
The security guard brought the extendable baton down on Drekus' leg, hoping to stop his movement. Those hopes were instantly dashed as Drekus grabbed the blunt instrument, throwing a punch that connected in a thump, the security guard's nose gushing warm blood onto Drekus' fist. Elle's voice began to blend with the demon's as he fought, happy memories drowned out by a symphony of cracking bone and an all-consuming mantra.
Always remember I am fear...
The slow drawl of Frank Hill accompanied Ivanov as he entered the back of a busy kitchen, dragging along the security guard who came after him with the baton. Unnatural shadows flickered across the counter as Drekus placed the man onto a table. He was still alive, Drekus could help him if he could just fight off this voice. He was a doctor, after all.
Always remember I am hunter...
Expressions frozen in shock twisted into masks of anger as the entire kitchen rushed Drekus. Knives, cleavers, fists, Quirks, none were a match for a shower of steel feathers. The ones left alive got a swift double lariat to the chest, quickly ending their suffering. Looking around at the bodies, the inner cacophony morphed into the shape of the demon, this time taking the face of the Chinese woman, needles protruding from her skin dripping acid onto her body.
"Drekus was only defending himself. No more, please. Let Drekus save this man."
Isaac could've sworn the doctor smiled. A single sharpened feather lodged itself in the back of the security guard's head, puncturing his brain stem and killing him on the spot. Drekus concentrated, watching as the slain bodies jerked to life and stood up. It was all he could do to avoid breaking down as the mantra continued getting louder in his head.
Always remember I am filth...
The owner was a weak man who tried to punch Isaac. His hand would be broken, crushed by Drekus' kung-fu grip, and the man himself would be thrown out the window into the dumpster Drekus had slept in last night, smashing his head on the edge. Following the dead man out the window, the villain landed on the ground with a crunch of pavement. A female ran out of the front of the building, turning down the street in a futile attempt to escape. Losing control of his body, Drekus commanded the zombies to rip apart the fleeing waitress. The woman screamed as a zombie bit into her neck, tearing off skin and viscera with a sound not unlike the crushing of watermelon flesh with one's hands. By the time the entire horde got to her, her vocal cords were already between the teeth of the security guard Drekus had tried to save. The doctor stepped over the mangled body, the voice of each personality becoming a twisted accompaniment as it peeled the mask off its face, tears running down the face of the brute as the mantra reached a swelling conclusion.
Always remember... we are Drekus!
Recommended Listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eb0D0-aMhpY (or just the free bird solo)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYZIUtDAFIw
The piercing scream caused Impakt to drop his yakisoba, the plate clattering on the ground to the cook's horror. Bobby and Hifumi looked on with admiration as the pro hero charged headlong into the rapidly fleeing crowd, Inigo distracted by editing the video they'd just took. As more and more people vacated the market, the trio became lost in the crush of people. Being bumped into morphed quickly into unwillingly moving along with the crowd. Grabbing on to his friends, Hifumi closed his eyes, and just like that the boys found themselves following Impakt on the rooftops, a look of bewilderment in Inigo's eyes.
"What're you thinking?"
"We gotta see this go down."
Having finally gotten through the crowd, Impakt found the source of the noise, and a part of him wished he didn't. A mob of corpses stood in the middle of the road, propped up by a reanimation Quirk like the ones from the armored car attack. They were gathered around a bloodied corpse, gore dripping from their mouths and hands. As feather-pierced noses picked up Impakt's scent, the hero cracked his knuckles as the zombies began to shuffle towards him.
"Bring it on!"
He had no energy stored up, but in that moment, there was no need. The corpses rushed him down, nearly tripping over themselves as they tackled the hero. The second he landed on the ground, Impakt put his arms in front of his face as the zombies did their damnedest to tear off a chunk of his flesh. Rows of teeth caught in the tough fabric of the coveralls, and before long the zombies gave up the effort, opting instead to pummel Impakt with whatever limbs weren't clutching maniacally to the hero's torso. As his muscles tightened, absorbing the beating, Ernst thought back to his combat teacher in the academy, the commando hero Lord Denison.
"You're a bloody good striker, lad, but you can't grapple to save your life. You had better figure something out if a villain decides to take it to the ground."
Planting his left leg on the hip of a zombie, he pushed off, crunching his body in a jiu-jitsu technique called a shrimp. Admittedly basic, but the simple move gave him the tiniest amount of breathing room. With it, he rolled onto his forearm, contracting his muscles to move the tightness into his leg as he swept the legs of the corpses. Some fell to the ground, others were pushed into a nearby clothing store. It'd been a long time since Ernst was a student, and as he stood up, only one thought was on his mind:
They felt no pain, so neither will I.
Now, it was Impakt's turn to strike back. Bobby watched in awe as Impakt sprinted toward the zombies, hitting the first one with a roundhouse kick followed by a one-two that knocked the zombie into the others inside the building. Craning their necks, the trio couldn't see the hero inside the store, but Hifumi could hear the thud of kicks and the clattering of clothing racks being knocked over. A zombie crashed through the store's front window, and soon after, Inigo fixed his gaze on the side alley of the clothing store as the pro hero was thrown through an emergency exit, kicking a zombie that vaulted over the railing into the ground.
A wild swipe of a broken right hand looped towards Impakt's ear. Effortlessly, he parried the blow, countering with a tight uppercut to the body and an elbow to the head that staggered the zombie. Stepping to the inside, he sent it crumpling to the pavement with a lightning-fast side kick to the rear leg, planting his kicking foot to deliver a wicked backfist to a charging zombie in bloodstained chef's whites. He could hear the sickening crunch of the corpse's nose as it broke. Riding off pure adrenaline, he twisted into the air, following his strike with a powered-up tornado kick that launched the former chef into the side of a food cart with a loud crash.
"WHA-TAAAW!"
As he landed, Ernst switched his stance to southpaw, ducking under a diving zombie in a security guard's vest to fire off a series of kicks into another corpse, finishing the combo with a right cross and a stomp on the diving zombie's midsection. Was that one's neck broken?
Transfixed by the brawl, Bobby Sampson jumped when he heard the clatter of trash cans. Peering over to see what the fuss was about, he saw a hulking figure dressed in what looked like a huge trash bag stumbling down the service road behind the building they stood on top of. Getting down from the roof, Bobby had just finished climbing out of the dumpster when one of the zombies skidded past him, standing up with a clicking noise reminiscent of the Predator. The drooling zombie lurched at Bobby, who slipped its first attempt to grab him and delivered a quick counter jab that only seemed to piss the zombie off. Drawing what little sunlight there still was into his arm, he slammed a glowing right cross into the corpse, causing it to sway backwards like a drunkard. Inigo, who had followed Bobby down from the roof, pointed towards the undead assailant, the words that followed exiting his mouth in a snarl. He wouldn't let this-this thing hurt his friend, and neither would Gigan.
"Sic 'em!"
The dragon looped forward, pulling the zombie to its knees as hard-light teeth ripped into the zombie's arm. Gigan tumbled back and forth in a furious death roll, tearing its arm off in a ragged twist as Hifumi jumped down from the roof to deliver a kendo strike that clove the corpse's head in two. Wiping the clotted brains from his sword and putting it in his backpack, the boy almost didn't see Drekus barreling at them, the blue beast's hands covered in steel feathers. Bobby, who did, dashed forward to meet the charging brute. He might be basically Quirkless at night, but it wasn't going to stop him from protecting his friends. Even if he got hurt or knocked out, he'd take the hit so his bros didn't have to. Bracing for impact, he felt a bump on the shoulder. The pro had come back for the zombie, only to find the man responsible for its creation.
"Well done, young heroes! Now get out of here!"
Impakt grabbed the 7-foot-tall monster in a clinch hold, hooking his arm under his opponent's armpit to prevent Drekus from landing a punch. He strained against Drekus' brute strength, boots scraping on the pavement as he pushed against the villain's weight.
So this was the man who had attacked the armored car. He'd seen him before, though, but where?
Hopping into the air, a flying knee sent Drekus sliding back. It was a move Ernst had picked up from Junpei while sparring. He might be his sidekick, but Impakt liked to think he learned more from Junpei than the other way around. Unfazed, the hulking villain charged towards him, roaring as the two traded blows. A parried punch resulted in a hook to Drekus' face. An uppercut punished Impakt's whiffed kick. For a split second, Ernst turned his attention to the three boys, watching as Hifumi grabbed his friends and teleported them back to the rooftops. That second was all Drekus needed to cock back his arm, driving it into Impakt's unguarded face.
The blue demon's fist sent him crashing into a phone box across the street, muscles flexing as they absorbed the force of the blow. With barely enough time to register the hit, Impakt steadied himself just in time to guard against a furious clothesline that blew him along with the back of the phone booth into a brick wall. His muscles ratcheted yet tighter, and Impakt gasped for breath as Drekus charged him once more, the wind briefly knocked out of him from the landing. The subsequent straight punch made a spiderweb crack in the visor of his helmet. Recoiling back from the hit, Ernst's jaw slammed shut on his lower lip. He could feel warm blood drip down his chin. Another punch broke the visor entirely, and a hard shot to the body caused Impakt to feel something crack. Drekus had begun to really lay into the hero, breaking more and more of the wall with each punch. Eventually, the brick wall gave out, sending the two falling down onto the linoleum floor of a convenience store. Pushing the hulking villain off of him, Impakt kicked up into a Wing Chun stance, bruised fists close to his body and shaking legs canted inwards. Through a swollen eye, Drekus saw the hero extend the back of his gloved hand to him, beckoning the villain forward.
"C-come on, villain. We aren't done yet."
When Drekus got to his feet, he roared and aimed a rear hook at Ernst's head. The hero reached his lead hand out, grabbed the villain's wrist and pushed it away. As he redirected Drekus' other fist with an open palm, Impakt launched into a series of blisteringly-fast chain punches, using the energy stored in his muscle fibers to lend extra oomph to shots that normally lacked the power of even a jab.
Ten punches. I won't back down from this fight, I have a responsibility to the young heroes and everyone else in this city. So he can't create another Hana situation, I've gotta stop him, because that's what a hero does!
Pain shot through Impakt's side, and his speed faltered for a moment as he let out a ragged breath. Gritting his teeth, he shouted a mighty battle cry, redoubling his efforts. Bags of chips rattled off the nearby shelf, falling onto the dented floor as he delivered blow after powerful blow.
Twenty punches. Keep breathing, keep hitting him, fight through it like Dad trained you to.
Punches delivered at the speed of a bullet train landed on Drekus' body like gunshots, and the hulking man could feel his guard wearing down with each one. Now, it was Drekus' turn to hurt, and he felt a sharp stab in his arm as his radius fractured under the force of the hero's punches, growling in agony.
Thirty punches. I'll finish it this time, for sure!
Eventually, as he landed the thirtieth hit, Drekus' hands finally flung apart. Capitalizing on the opening, Ernst switched back into a boxing stance with a slight hop, slipping past a flurry of sharpened feathers as he drove his fist into the villain's center of mass, applying his Quirk precisely as he threw his full weight into the uppercut. Drekus, unable to parry, was launched through the roof of the convenience store, covering his head with a steel-feathered arm as he cracked timber and shingle on the way up. Focusing his Quirk into his feet, Impakt jumped through the hole in the roof, looking every bit the picture of the human cannonball he used to see as a kid at the carnival as he leapt into the air.
An invincible daredevil, a symbol of heroism to rally the people. Just like you, Dad.
At the apex of his jump, he concentrated the remainder of the kinetic energy into his lead leg. Overloaded with energy, quivering muscles and tendons began to tear, yet still Impakt extended his leg, numb from the adrenaline.
Throwing his momentum over his shoulder in a mid-air frontflip, he brought his leg down on Drekus.
"CRASH AXE!!"
Hifumi Takeda could barely register the blue shape that hurtled towards the ground amidst the soft glow of streetlamps. What he could register, though, was the earsplitting boom of Drekus slamming into the pavement, immediately followed by a gale that pushed at the boys. Small clumps of asphalt rained down from the sky into the boys' hair. Peering down into the street as the dust settled, he saw the villain at the epicenter of a sizable crater in the middle of the night market, groaning in pain.
So this was the power of a pro...Damn, I've got to get stronger.
Drekus could barely move. The axe kick had surely broken something, and it would take a while to fully heal. Not that he was contemplating it as Impakt landed, letting out a yelp as his bad leg touched the ground.
Where was he? Drekus had been in air one moment. Shape above him...is that hero?
Impakt, limping into the crater he'd left, extended his hand to the villain In that instant, a weary Drekus saw the face of Elle reflected in the hero that defeated him. There was no demon, no personalities. Just silence, save for distant car alarms set off by their brawl. Just...peace.
"This...isn't over. You don't have to hurt anyone else."
He speaks German. He is from Europe, then. Like Drekus.
"You...hah...you fight well, hero. Voices...quiet."
Half-unconscious, the words stumbled out of Drekus' mouth alongside a bloody cough, blue skin tainted red. With the last of his strength, he tried to sprout metal wings from his back, groaning as he slumped back into the crater, all thoughts of escape slipping through his big meaty fingers. As he began to drift off, Drekus thought of the demon.
It would be back, it always was. Not now, though. Now was time for Drekus to sleep.
Upon seeing Drekus fall down, Impakt collapsed onto his back. His injured leg lay flat on the ground as he clutched his side, wheezing in pain. He barely registered the arrival of his sidekick, white bandana trailing in the evening breeze as he rushed to his boss' side.
"Impakt-senpai! Are you okay?"
Impakt, concussed, couldn't understand a word of Japanese. He chuckled softly, attempting to rise to his feet only to be gingerly sat back down by a concerned Junpei.
"Whoa, whoa, easy, senpai. I think you broke a rib. We'll get you fixed up at the hospital, but stay here for now. What happened here, anyway?"
Ernst Hennig, son of the Strongest Creature In Europe, raised a thumbs-up to the sky and through pained breaths managed to utter to his sidekick:
"Niefmals...aufgeben!"